…..... In a simple row boat ….........

Drifting to shore with the in-going tide,

Oars at rest, riding the surging swell,

At peace in my small craft, easy with the elements.

Glancing into deep water over the bow

I see a broad, little fish no longer than my arm

Swimming out from shore

Pushing against a dark, lidded pot the size of my head.

The vessel is floating in with the tide, just below the surface.

'It looks like iron, but iron sinks!'

(The Dream Master is not pleased.

Reason never interferes again.)

The fish is nudging the pot against the tidal flow

Losing ground inexorably.

The Dream Message is clear:

'If this vessel beaches, THE LAND IS DOOMED!'

 

I don't hesitate a heart beat.

Like a fellow sea creature

I throw myself overboard to help the little fish

Brace the pot against the pull of the moon.

I never doubt I can do it.

 

The little fish and I, we do not falter,

Pushing so hard, going nowhere!

Our only 'raison d'etre' - working together.

Somehow, our puny selves defy satellite force,

Holding the vessel against the tide.

In dream time, the tide rolls in, and the tide rolls out,

Carrying back to open sea that lethal, little pot.

WE HAVE SAVED THE LAND!

 

The fish swims up to my face

And touches its mouth to my lips.

I see it; I do not feel it; but I know it,

And I understand: I have have been blessed!

My mind can't cope with anymore.

I waken in sheer disbelief,

Not immediately sure of my bed -

Still with a Sense of Sea in my body.

It was a strange experience,

But this I know:

NOBODY REALLY UNDERSTANDS DREAMS!

And 'THE POT' IS SOMEWHERE!

 Cynthia Buell Thomas, Dec., 2019